


The Rise and Fall of Empires

by kArin55



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Gangsters, Guns, Mafia AU, Pharmercy, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-03-17 08:49:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13655580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kArin55/pseuds/kArin55
Summary: The underworld is dangerous, all who work within it's grasp can tell you that. But it's also a great opportunity. For revenge, power gain, or simply to avoid the crippling debt of higher education. But who says you can't enjoy yourself along the way?The Angel of Death, also known as Dr. Angela Ziegler but referred to as "Mercy" by those under her employment, seeks to ensure the stability of the fragile peace between the remaining gangs of the underworld. She has a strange way to keep it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pocket Full of Shells](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11236095) by [LogosMinusPity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogosMinusPity/pseuds/LogosMinusPity). 



> This fanfic is my first on this site, it's inspired by a few other's I've read here and by Risu's wonderful fan-art. Don't want to give anything away but I'm really excited to post this, hope you enjoy :)

The Angel of Death was standing with her back to the door, watching through floor to ceiling windows out over her city. And it was HER city. Well, at least her underworld. No one would dare challenge her now after those damned Shimadas were completely annihilated by her henchmen.

  
“Get Ana Amari on the phone for me J.” She finally said after a long stretch of silence, gritting her teeth at the paining urge to light a cigarette. As a medical doctor she should know better than to smoke and so she promised herself that after the Shimada clan was obliterated she would stop. She could tell that this promise, like too many others, will be broken sooner rather than later.

  
“Yes boss.” The bodyguard walked briskly to her desk where a landline lay forgotten, most of their communication was done using burner phones these days. A wise choice for those dealing with more things than horse racing, gambling and registered pharmaceuticals.

  
“Here you go boss.” The guard handed her the receiver with an arm stretched as far as it could reach. She grabbed it from his hand hastily and sat down in the large leather chair in front of her.

  
“Your actions precede you Angela. May I be the first of the others to congratulate you on your success. Malak Al-Maut.” Angela could feel the sarcasm dripping from the other woman’s lips, she breathed deeply before speaking again.

  
“Thank you, Ana. But my war with the Shimada’s is not why I contacted you.” She heard a few hasty words thrown around in Arabic from the other end of the call. Though she didn’t understand them she got the feeling she had stirred up some interest and the bodyguards she surly had around her were called to leave.

  
“And what it is you would like to discus with me?” Ana’s voice dropped low, her accent now much clearer when her mind was flooding with thoughts. Angela smiled to herself itching to light one up, she instead poured herself a generous amount of Single Malt from a crystal bottle that was displayed on her mahogany desk.

  
“I wish to meet with you. Privately.” She took a long sip of her drink, but no answer was given. “I will allow one bodyguard, no wires.” More silence. It felt like minutes passed before Ana replied.

  
“You peeked my interest Angela. When and where?” Angela took another sip of victory.

  
“I will send that in a later time, but I have one more thing to ask of you Amari.” The woman cursed under her breath.  
“What will that be?” Ana asked.

  
“Bring your daughter with you.” She didn’t wait for a reply this time, gently putting the receiver back in it’s place before she walked back to the enormous windows.

  
“Leave me.” She called out to no one in particular, all the guards that were in the room left in silence. Angela let out a soft sigh, she was hardly alone these days.  
Then again, when you run a mafia empire as extensive as her own now was, you aren’t supposed to be alone. She wished she could talk to someone, but then steeled herself into apathy again. She will not let her armor, so carefully and methodically crafted, be broken now. Not after she just defeated her long-fought nemesis, not after fulfilling her revenge on the Shimada clan.

  
She sat at her desk again, pulling open a drawer filled with parchment and unmarked envelopes and began writing. After licking the envelope shut she pulled her wax seal from the drawer as well, melting the wax with her lighter now lying useless on her desk next to a half empty packet of cigarettes. She sealed the envelope and left behind her mark in glittering gold. A pair of delicate angle wings around a Rod of Asclepius.

  
“Gabriel!” She called her messenger by his code name, he swiftly entered through a secret door in the library lined wall of her penthouse office.

  
“You summoned me Mercy?” She was used to being called by her code name by her “Archangels”. Her top tire men, those who swore faulty to her as soon as she started rising to power. Each of them had their own specialty, Jack “Gabriel” Morrison was her fastest man. An old friend to her family, way back from when her dear old Papa served in the Swiss army.

  
“You know where this goes.” She handed him the blank envelope, hew gritted his teeth before gently taking it from her hand.

  
“Are we celebrating our victory Mercy?” His tone made her flinch, she was not used to this casual manner. She did not speak with Jack very often, it was easy to forget he knew her since she was a child. A constant presence throughout her life. And now her most trusted of Archangels.

  
“Not yet Gabriel.” She lazily put all the things now scattered on her desk back to place before pouring herself another glass of Single Malt. “We have more business to attend to, now that the Shimada clan is out of the way I have to strengthen my alliances. And make new ones.” She downed her generous pour with a single flick of her wrist, savoring the burn in her throat.

  
“You may leave.” She said coldly, Jack nodded and turned to the still open door from which he came.  
Angela looked down at her pack of cigarettes for a long moment before stuffing it in her junk drawer. She downed her third glass a quickly as the second before taking the whole bottle with her to the window, she watched as Jack’s car left the garage of the building with blinding speed.  
Taking a swig straight from the crystal bottle made her think of how she would regret this in the morning but nonetheless spent the rest of the night finishing the nearly full bottle before calling out for her bodyguard to drive her to one of her safe houses.


	2. Chapter 2

Fareeha was pacing a hole in her mother’s carpet, her hand were tight fists on her sides and she feared she might brake a tooth from the hard lock of her jaw.

“Why do I have to go?!” She asked for what felt like the hundredth time, her mother sighed once again resting her head back on her chair.

“Because” She looked at her daughter with one good eye which glowed an unsettling light brown, looking as if she’s staring straight into your soul with one look “The Angel has requested you personally. You will act as my guard.”

“I already am your best guard.” Fareeha boasted and only got an intense glare from her mother.

“ _Binti,_ you may think less of The Angle of Death if you want. But we’ve had a shaky alliance with her at best for the past few years. And after what I heard she just did to the last of the Shimada clan, I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.” Fareeha knew her mother was right. The rumors were spreading like wildfire amongst the gangs in town.  
The Angle of Death had finally got her revenge, and it came quickly and gruesomely just as she promised it would. She now held power over more than half of the city’s cartels, pharmaceuticals, arts and fine jewelry.  
The one thing she didn’t have more than them was weapons. That was the Amari’s territory. That was their only bargaining chip, The Angle of Death had to have weapons so they supplied.

“Fine. I’ll go.” She grunted letting her hands loosen, her white knuckles fading back to tan brown.

“I was telling you to go Fareeha, not asking you.” Her mother noted and Fareeha snorted at the words. “You will not disrespect me Fareeha!” Ana boomed, her voice echoing in the almost bare warehouse office. It was one of many weapon stashes sprinkled in the docks, old building passing down through generations of the Amari Empire.

“I meant no disrespect Mama.” She mumbled and strode to the exit.

“And where do you think you’re going?!” Ana bellowed, Fareeha didn’t stop walking.

“To my apartment.” She spat, she had to be on her own for the night. She had to let the steam out alone, as she walked out to the cool evening air Anubis ran to walk beside her.  
The slim Doberman was pushing his head against her leg until she gave him a quick pat between the ears. She took out a single cigarette from the inside of her jacket and lit it up with her zippo, it’s side was engraved with the family’s symbol. The eye of Horus, which was tattooed one way or another on all of her mother’s people.  
On the direct bloodline it was tattooed under the eye. Usually on the right one, but that was because it was their strong eye. After her mother was shot and had to wear the patch she got it tattooed under her left one as well.

“Anything happened while I was with Mama boy?” She asked him, she knew he would only bark up at her in response but none the less smiled at the road as he did.  
“Mama wants me to come and meet The Angle.” Anubis growled at the name just as trained, Fareeha smiled and stroked his head again.  
“That’s right Anubis, we don’t like her.”

The walk to her apartment was long from the docks, but she didn’t have any vehicle with her today. She was dropped off here after she returned from Egypt, she had been there too long.  
Although she spent a few years there as a child while her “presumed dead” mother was in hiding she couldn’t call it home, this was her home. Amongst the chaos and noise, in the front lines and dirty work of her family’s hard-earned empire.  
She spent years training in her mother’s shadow, doing low men’s jobs in the field as well as high ranked missions. Her favorite was debt collection, though she enjoyed being her mother’s bodyguard as well.  
When she reached the apartment building the doorman had opened the door for her and gave a swift pet to Anubis who licked his hand enthusiastically.

“Long day Pharah?” The doorman asked, she’d known for quite a while that her mother had arranged that her doorman would be of the gang though she would never admit worrying so much about her.

“Too long, _laylatan jayidat Khalil_.” She waved at him from the elevator doors.

“To you too Pharah.” He reclaimed his position in front of the building as the elevator doors slid shut in front of her, it started rising to the top floor on which her apartment was. She slumped against the elevator’s mirror sighing in tiredness, she turned to look at herself in the mirror.  
Her black hair was messy, strands sticking out from the golden clips attached to them, her brown irises popping off of her bloodshot eyes. The eye of Horas tattooed under her right eye almost swallowed in the bags under her eyes. She had not slept a full night in a month, not from the moment her mother announced she will return here.  
Anubis whimpered at her, she took a deep breath before stepping out of the elevator to her front door. Unlocking it with her thumbprint she threw the door open and Anubis went sailing by her inside of the large space. Her living room was decorated modernly, all stainless steel and glass. She hadn’t been here in a long time, it seems her mother had it refurnished.  
“You seem comfortable, don’t you?” She suggested as Anubis claimed a spot on the new couch, his unclipped tail wagging and whipping the soft fabric causing muffled thuds to sound in the room.  
Fareeha swung the door shut before she noticed something on the floor in front of her, she picked it up with suspicion.  
”Anubis, come!” She commanded and the dog ran to her side, she let him sniff the unmarked envelope. He tilted his head in bafflement and gave a small huff of air out of his lunges. So, it was not drugs or explosives.  
She took a whiff herself, catching a faint smell of Scotch and flowery perfume. She did not recognize that smell, but it twisted her stomach in a way she didn’t like. She turned the letter in her hand a wax seal catching her eye, no one but leaders of the underworld used those anymore.  
Theirs was Navy, the Shimada’s was a bright green, Talon’s bold black, the Chinese an icy blue and the Russians blood red.  
This could only mean the golden seal was Mercy’s, she memorized the symbol to have reference for the future before tearing it and getting the neatly folded piece of parchment out. It’s bone color was eerie, as she unfolded the paper she skimmed the feminine cursive writing. It was written by The Angle’s own hand no doubt.

 

 _‘To Fareeha Amari,_  
The heir to the Amari empire.  
It has come to my attention that you have returned from your missions abroad.  
As you must have already heard I have accomplished what all of you couldn’t, I have destroyed the Shimadas.  
As a result I have made myself quite a few enemies, but your gang I do not intend to turn against me.  
Your mother and I are having a meeting soon, you are to be there as it concerns you as well.

_My regards, Dr. Angela Ziegler.’_

Fareeha wanted to tear the letter apart, but she knew better than that. She whipped her phone out of her pocket and texted her mother immediately. Informing her that her apartment was compromised and a summery of Mercy’s letter. She didn’t wait for a response.  
She knew Angela wasn’t stupid enough to attack her outright in her mother’s territory. She went to the hidden floor safe by the huge flat screen pulling out an old military M4, it’s glossy black finish reminding her of older more simple days. When they smuggled unregistered arms from all over the world, she had the pleasure of learning to shoot a rifle with this same gun.  
Her initials were still carved to the bottom of the stock. She quickly disassembled and reassembled it to check if it was still in order, when she deemed it fine she got a magazine from the safe as well before closing it up again.  
She slang the rifle’s strap over her head and rested it behind her back as she listened carefully to hear if anyone but her was in the apartment. She walked to the small balcony that branched off of the state-of-the-art kitchen, lighting another cigarette. The first drag made her muscles relax a tiny bit, but she had her ears perked to any sound from inside the house. Though she knew Anubis would alert her if anyone tried to get inside.  
She leaned over the iron railing, flicking her cigarette with her thumb as she crossed her arms on it. This was going to be a real pain once the meeting occurred, she could tell she wouldn’t like what either mafia boss had to say. Especially if it involved her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading:)  
> As mentioned in the tags this will take some time. I only get to be home every other weekend so I'll upload every other Thursday (hopefully).  
> I hope you like my work and if you catch any mistake or problem be sure to say something so I can fix it.  
> Have a lovely weekend ♥


	3. Chapter 3

It has been almost over a decade since Angela had seen the heir to the Amari empire, it was just after she swore to end Genji and Hanzo Shimada and their clan. Fareeha was just a child back then, only about eleven or twelve, but she already carried herself with the same charisma as her mother. Angela saw her across a crowded room she wasn’t supposed to be in, she was tall for her age and her black hair was cut shorter than usual for a young girl of that age.  
Angela remembered the sneer the young girl gave her as their eyes met. It made her smile in a vicious way, but the girl held her ground and tipped her head down in respect turning to follow a tall broad man around the room. Angela noted the golden clips attached to two thin braids that twinkled in the chandelier light, she guessed it was pure gold cast from a block which her mother had acquired in a heist, but she couldn’t tell from so far away.

“That is the Amari heir Dr. Ziegler, Fareeha.” It was her Archangel Zapkiel whispering to her from her right, she let her stare wonder around the room. She was dressed in her best clothes, not that anyone noticed since she kept mostly to the shadows and corners.

“Interesting.” Angela took a sip of the drink she had in her hand, she didn’t notice what it was as she picked it up from one of the servants walking briskly across the large space where the art gallery was held.

“Do you need me to do anything Dr.?” The woman asked, she shook her head no and turned to walk away from the art show.

“On a second thought,” She paused just before the door opened, her white leather jacket draped over her shoulders “buy everything displayed. All of the pieces. Store them at my personal warehouse in the docks. They will be useful later.” She turned to her car down the road, a black Mercedes that was blending in with all the others.

“Where too boss?” Asked the driver, an old gentleman she knew for a long time.

“The tower, I have business to attend to.”

 

She sat still across from her greatest ally and rival, Ana’s good eye drilling a hole through her forehead. But she didn’t flinch under the intense stare, her face was stoic and blank as she let the older woman consider her offer.

“You have some nerve asking for such a thing.” The woman said through clenched teeth, Angela merely smiled at the comment.

“But I made the request nonetheless. We both know this is the best offer we both get, it will benefit the both of us.” She shifted her look to the Amari heir, though Fareeha’s face was calm her eyes said it all. The brown orbs were full of hate, anger, shooting daggers at her.  
As Angela smirked a muscle twitched in Fareeha’s cheek. She has grown immensely since she saw her last, now towering over her by at least three inches. Nothing a pair of heals can’t fix. Her arms were thick chords of strong muscles crossed over her chest. If she were with her back turned, Angela could mistake her for a long-haired man. A thick neck protruded from wide set shoulders which strained against the material of her shirt in the pose she stood in.

“I don’t see how it would benefit me in any way.” Ana insisted and twined her fingers on the table in front of her. Angela looked at her again, long gray hair pulled into a braid that rested on her left shoulder. She was tall like her daughter, but slim and femininely elegant instead of broad and intimidating. Though she had her own way of being intimidating.

“I will buy your weapons and give you the docks to store them.”

“I already have storage space Mercy, and more buyers than any other gang in this town.”

“All but me.” Angela noted and saw a copy of Fareeha’s stare cross her mother’s eyes for a moment.

“I don’t need your generosity, but I don’t want your malice either. So, I’ll offer you this. You will let my people be treated in your clinics. You will not interfere with my shipments and deliveries, to whom ever they may be. And you will otherwise leave my business to my own.”

“That is a lot to ask in exchange for one bodyguard.” Angela commented.

“Not when that guard is my own daughter it isn’t.” Ana snapped, only making Angela smile coldly back at her. She made the Amaris jumpy and oh so furious. She made no move to agree or dismiss the suggestion, taking her time considering the offer.

“Alright, if you promise me to do as well. Your daughter will serve as just my guard. If I find out she is giving you any information I will have her killed and her body sent back with a pretty little virus.” She cocked her head slightly as Ana grinded her teeth.

“I accept.” Angela held back a squeak of pleasure, she saw Fareeha tense and clench her teeth so hard there were hollows in her cheeks.

“I will send for her in a few hours, have her gather her things.” Angela stood up as Ana did, reaching across the table to shake a callused hand. Ana tugged lightly at it catching her by surprise, she leaned forward on the desk, one hand stabilizing her as the older woman whispered in her ear.

“If anything happens to her, I will kill you personally. I will choke you with my own hands, I respect you Angel of Death. But you should do so as well.” Angela didn’t stagger back once Ana let go of her, her mouth rose in half a smile at the Amaris.

“Pleasure doing business with you Ana, I hope we will have a better alliance from now on.” Ana did not return a farewell, she and Fareeha both left silently.

 

 

Fareeha was fuming silently in the car ride back to her apartment, her mother sat beside her staring out of the car window at the passing buildings.

“You will do as she says _Binti_ , you will earn her trust and stay at her side.” Ana mumbled, Fareeha tried to ignore the sudden sadness to her voice.

“Yes Mama.” She uttered, she wanted to be six feet under. She was going to be Angela’s personal bodyguard. She wished she were dead. Ana sighed but didn’t turn her head to look at her.

“She left me no choice _Habibti_.”

“I know Mama.” Fareeha felt her mother’s hand on her shoulder, a small but reassuring gesture.

“You know you are my pride and glory Fareeha.” It was a statement, not a question. Fareeha only nodded.

“Go back to the warehouses Mama, I can get anywhere she tells me on my own.” She added as the car stopped in front of her apartment building. Her mother nodded once and drove away. Fareeha sighed and pulled out a cigarette only to put it back into the pack. She wanted to scream. Or hit someone. Or both. As she opened the door to her apartment Anubis stared at her from his spot on her couch.

“You are going to live with Ma from now on Anubis.” She called out to him, he whimpered back.  
“You remember Ra buddy?” At the mention of his brother Anubis barked, his tail wagging violently.  
“I thought you did.” She scoffed and turned to her bedroom, it was the smallest room in the apartment though it was everything but small.  
She took out a duffle bag from under the King-sized bed and threw in clothes haphazardly. She didn’t know what she was expected to wear, though she was sure Angela would comment on it as soon as she could.  
After stuffing the bag with enough clothes to last her a month she walked to her home gym, turning on violent rap as she put on her protective gloves before going a few hard rounds on the battered punching bag and yelling the lyrics along with the rapper. Taking her shirt off when it clung to her body with sweat and staying in her slacks and sport bra as her body ached from the raging exercise.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” The sweet tone caught her off guard, she turned quickly and reached for a throwing knife. She redirected her throw at the last second as she saw The Angel of Death stand in the doorway with Anubis sitting obediently at her side. The knife lodged in the door frame, inches from Angela’s face, but she didn’t flinch.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” She roared, Angela just smiling at her rage.

“Do you really want to know?” Fareeha bit back a growl and reached for her shirt.

“I thought you would send someone for me.” She said pulling her shirt over her head, it was cool on her heated skin. She noticed Angela hasn’t stopped looking at her, her cold azure glare lingering.

“I prefer to make things personal with my Archangels.” Angela said casually, shifting her gaze to meet her eyes. Fareeha arched a brow in curiosity but only got a stoic glare back.

“Well I’ll gather my things and follow you to wherever it is you want me to go.” Fareeha made to leave the room only to have her arm twisted painfully behind her back.

“I don’t like your attitude Amari.” She snarled into her ear, Fareeha stayed very still. She knew Angela could break her arm easily from this position.

“Sorry boss.” She hissed, winching when the Angel of Death pressed her arm further up her back. Her joint ached and she clenched her jaw to keep from sounding her pain.

“That’s better. I expect nothing but complete loyalty from my people.” Her word tickled Fareeha’s neck and made shivers run down her spine.

“I’m not your people, I am the Amari heir.” Fareeha sneered, Angela gave a cold giggle.

“You are mine for now, and you will learn your position soon enough.” Angela let her go then, she didn’t rub her hand. Only fisted it to her side.

“If I may, I would like to get my things. _Boss_.” She spat the last word, it tasted like poison in her mouth.

“Clean up as well, you have a fitting first thing we get there.” Angela left the room hastily, Fareeha close on her heel.

“Fitting?” She inquired.

“You don’t expect me to have a guard dressed as a common thug now, do you?” The comment on her clothing didn’t hurt as much as the tone in which it was spoken did. She got a quick shower and wore a clean button-down shirt and tailored pants, just to spite Angela.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly but surely, hope you enjoy :) ♥


	4. Chapter 4

Angela was biting her fingernails raw, she hadn’t done that since she was a child. She wished she could smoke, but she steeled herself and focused on the half-dressed bodyguard in front of her.  
Fareeha had a large figure, her tailor firstly mistaken her for a man. That made Fareeha glower and Angela smile secretly.

“So, what am I supposed to do now boss?” Fareeha had a stony tone, she didn’t let any more emotion show on her face or in her voice. Angela leaned against her desk crossing her arms over her chest.

“Firstly, as one of my Archangels you will call me Mercy.” Fareeha bit back a scoff, an ironic name for the Angel of Death.

“Yes Mercy.” She much preferred referring to Angela by a code name rather than ‘boss’. She closed the new button-down shirt before throwing the jacket around her shoulders and tugging it to fit smoothly across her back.

“Good.” Angela walked around her, inspecting everything about her appearance. Fareeha straightened her back until her muscles screamed with pain. She wanted to throw a retort at her, something clever and sarcastic. But she kept her lips in a thin pale line, waiting for Angela to say something.  
“Well, aren’t you going to thank me for your new garments?” A twitch of her upper lip made Angela stop in her tracks before completing another lap around her.

“Thank you, Mercy.” She fisted her palms at her sides, her arms quacking with unspent energy as she flexed the muscles as hard as she could. Angela gave no other comment, finally she stopped right in front of her. Angela was wearing a tall pair of stilettoes, she was at eye level with her barefoot self.

“All your belongings are at the safe house, you will learn the location tonight when we head back there.” Angela turned to head to her desk, her golden blonde hair trailing behind her. Her heels echoing in the quiet space. Fareeha walked slowly to the side of the desk as Angela sat down behind it, she clasped her hands behind her back and kept silent.  
“You’ll have shoes brought to you shortly.” She muttered under her breath as she took out several large piles of papers from one of the drawers. Fareeha passed the time by shifting her weight from one foot to the other, naming all the ammo and gun types she could remember by heart.

“Boss, we have what you requested.” The man that entered without knocking got an angry glare as Angela rose to her feet. He froze in place, his small black eyes widening with fear.

“Where are J and S Mr. Pavlov?” She asked in a cold voice, the man stammered and turned his head in all directions.

“I… they, it’s.”

“Silence!” Angela bellowed, Fareeha stayed stoic at her side. She was used to loud noises just next to her ear, years of working with guns daily tended to do that.

“Sorry boss, I thought I could- “

“Well you thought wrong.” She said simply and coldly, she opened a hidden cabinet in the desk and pressed something cold to Fareeha’s hands. She recognized the gun immediately, it’s weight shape and feel too painfully familiar. Without thinking too much she pointed the Deagle to the man’s head, he dropped to his knees and started crying. Fareeha Made no other move, just kept the man in her sights.  
“Meet my new Azrael Mr. Pavlov, as you can see she doesn’t talk much. But her tattoo is all you need, isn’t it?” The man lifted his gaze to stare at Fareeha’s brown eyes, he flinched at the Eye of Horus under her right one then lowered his gaze to her bare feet.

“Please boss, they weren’t there so I thought you weren’t here as well.” He begged, his voice was small and hoarse. Angela gave his words a moment to sink in, she sat back in her chair.

“Fine, but I will not forgive another slip Mr. Pavlov. Leave what you have brought and get out. If you see J and S send them here.” The man thanked her profusely, Fareeha lowered the gun to her side as he stumbled back to put a box on the desk just next to her and practically run out of the office.

“You can keep the gun, it’s way too heavy for me anyway.” Angela said matter of factly, she gave the magazine a check tucking it in the waistband behind her back. The cold press of metal against her was oddly comforting, a known and safe touch.  
“These are yours as well.” She pointed at the black box sitting on the desk with her pen, Fareeha took it and opened its lid. There was a pair of dress shoes, black leather and rubber. She slid then on her feet, they fit perfectly.  
“If you tap your heels together a knife will come out, standard for an Azrael.” Angela continued writing without even glancing at her. Fareeha put the box down beside her feet, making a mental note to throw it away on her way out. She resumed her gun listing where she left off, trying hard not to hears the scratch of Angela’s fountain pen against the rough paper as she made notes. A knock on the door had her tense and shake all thoughts from her head, she put her fingers lightly around the handle of the gun protruding from her waistband.

“Come in.” Angela said without taking her eyes away from the papers, two suit clad men entered the penthouse office with weary looks on their faces.

“You called for us boss?” One of them asked in a gravelly voice that reminded Fareeha of a tired dog. Angela lifted her cold blue stare to the men, she straightened in her chair and rested her chin on her lightly laced fingers.

“It has come to my attention you have deserted your post gentlemen.” The men exchanged frightened glances, Fareeha kept her hand steady and her look passive.

“It was only for a minute boss.” His answer was cut short by Angela’s small cream-colored hand lifting, the man swallowed hard.

“It’s alright.” She said and gestured for the men to approach. “You made a mistake, we all do that.”

“Thank you, boss. It won’t happen again.” Angela grinned at the response.

“I know you won’t, cause we all make mistakes.” Fareeha was surprised with the speed in which the Angel of Death produced a small caliber Glock and set it between the man’s brows “And you were mine.” The shot echoed in the office as the body fell with a soft thud on the granite floor.  
“I hope you understand the lesson J.” Angela said at the wide eyed, slack jawed man that was all of what remained of her doormen.

“Yes boss, I shall remain at my post.” He walked back outside hastily, Fareeha let go of the gun.

“Get someone from floor fifteen to clean this.” Angela said coldly and put her gun back inside of a small compartment hidden on the desk’s underside “And get rid of the body yourself, make sure it won’t pop up. These men are faceless, it would only stir up more problems.” Fareeha nodded and made to leave the office.

“And one more thing.” Fareeha had her hand on the handle, she turned her head to Angela.

“Yes Mercy?” The Angel of Death smiled sweetly making her grip tighten for no other reason but to make sure she won’t shiver.

“Teach our sweet guard a lesson, not as harshly as poor dear S, but hard enough so he’ll know he made a mistake.” Fareeha got out of the office and made sure to avoid the guard’s look.

It was hours later as she was walking up and down her new room that she took a moment to reflect on her actions. She was used to roughing up an insurgent, her mother had her do it since she was old enough to tower over most of the men on the streets they governed over. It was the fact that the man had looked more terrified than anyone she had ever dealt with before. He looked relived as she walked into the room in which he was tied up, her head said he expected Mercy. She took off her jacket and rolled up her sleeves.

“You think Mercy is scary?” She asked and walked up to the tied-up guard grabbing his jaw in her hand “You haven’t met an Amari.” The man had had to be taken to medical care after she was done.

“You did a good job.” It was one of the other Archangels, she thought his codename was Raphael. He was a paramedic, a slim and tall man from Nepal.

“I don’t know how to respond to that, especially coming from a medic.” She said, she took a bloodied hand towel that was handed to her. She nodded in thanks and whipped her hands as clean as she could.

“Don’t think about it, good luck with Mercy Amari. You’ll need it.” Fareeha was baffled at the time, but after the drive back to the safehouse she understood. Angela was speaking to a doctor in one of her clinics, her face was bright red and her voice reached pitches Fareeha was sure her mother had never even heard.

“Winston, tomorrow morning we’re swinging by the clinic on Fifth. One of my employees could use a visit from his paycheck source.” Fareeha wandered if her thugs and her civilians got the same treatment. She hoped not.


	5. Chapter 5

It has been a few weeks since Fareeha started working as the Angel of Death’s bodyguard, she had met several other Archangels. She kept to herself and remained silent for most of her days.

“Good work on the junkyard gig Azrael.” Fareeha turned to face Archangel Michael, the tall muscular Russian woman was a sight to be seen. She was built like an Olympic heavy weight lifter, her veins visible on her tightly pulled skin. Her bright pink hair was cut short and buzzed to a bristle on one side so the other fell to her umber eyes.

“Thanks.” Fareeha replied drily. Both of them were walking back from the shooting range at the edge of one of the many lands their boss owned. Fareeha parted ways with the other woman as they entered a large house, she turned to a familiar parlor in which Angela sat at a small desk.

“This is your day off.” Angela raised a tired gaze to her, she walked to the library that stood behind the table.

“Just came to take something.” She muttered. As she passed by Angela she tripped over an extended leg, only to be caught at the last moment by long pale arms.

“Do I bore you Fareeha?” The question was whispered into her ear, Angela’s warm breath causing her hairs to stand on end. She righted herself, now towering over Angela.

“What makes you say that?” Fareeha didn’t usually talk back to her new boss, her mother had warned her to hold her tongue. But lately she had grown exhausted of pretending, she stood like a dummy beside Angela through various events. From the opening of new medical clinics in the high-rise part of town to secret drug deals in the slums.

“You seem like you’d rather be somewhere else. Constantly.” Angela looked up at her, eyes a cold steel gray-blue.

“Maybe I do.” Fareeha bit back, Angela frowned.

“Watch your mouth.” She hissed through gritted teeth poking at Fareeha’s strong chest.

“I’m tired of being your lap dog.” She regretted uttering the words as soon as they came out. Angela’s nostrils were flaring, a soft scarlet climbing up her slender neck.

“What did you say?” Fareeha searched for something to reply.

“You treat me like a common guard. Ones you can get for a dime a dozen. I am the Amari Heir for crying out loud, I am better than all your men combined.” Angela’s stare remained flaming, Fareeha now stood with her legs apart and her hands fisted at her sides.

“You were to prove your loyalty before taking on more critical assignments.”

“Well, I am loyal to my mother, not to you.” Angela was fuming, she pushed Fareeha hard. Caught by surprise Fareeha toppled back hitting the floor hard, the impact sending waves of pain up her body. She looked up into a barrel of a familiar Glock, she didn’t flinch.

“I promised Ana I’d keep you safe. We had a mutual respect for one another, an… understanding of sorts. She knew I held your life in my hands. Knew very well how dangerous the lives we live are. That one mistake could mean an unnecessary funeral.” Fareeha breathed hard, keeping her face blank of emotion. She wasn’t afraid of the gun in front of her face.

“So, you know I am only here because of my mother.” Angela huffed a laughter and squatted down beside her balancing her arms on her knees.

“You might not respect me.” Angela said, her voice cold and cruel “But you will learn to fear me.” Fareeha locked her gaze with Angela’s. She had heard tales of the Angel of Death’s cruelty, of her “treatments” to those who she found unfitting to serve her. But she had never been in the room while these acts were occurring, always manning the doors. Always watching out for dangers, should they be law or rivals of Angela’s mob.

“You don’t scare me.” She growled.

“Yet.” Angela said and stood up, she didn’t look at her again. Fareeha got up from her prone state with a single powerful movement, she got the book from the shelf and left the room. Her military boots thumping on the hardwood floor and then quieting as she stepped to the carpeted hallway. She stomped up a hidden staircase to her quarters.  
Throwing the book on the twin bed she reached for her closet and pulled workout clothes from a messy pile inside. Changing quickly, she made out for the gym in the basement. It was even better equipped than her home gym at her old place, she made a mental note to buy a treadmill for her quarters. Small as they may be, she hated being dependent on Angela’s equipment.  
She blared rock music in her headphones and went through her usual routine. Thirty minutes of treadmill followed by free weights and bench-pressing. After her third round of deadlifts she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket.

“Amari.” She answered, taking a small hand towel and wiping the sweat from her face and neck.

“What are you up to _Ruwhi_?” Fareeha let out a sigh of frustration as her mother’s voice came clear over the line.

“What did she say?” Fareeha could hear her mother’s anger, a soft quiet anger that when pulled too tightly will rip like an elastic band. And you better hope you are not in arms reach.

“I put my trust in you, and trust _her_ with your life.” Fareeha sat down on the bench on the far side of the room, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair a disheveled mess of black over her brown eyes, her mocha skin gleaming with sweat.

“Why can’t you trust me with my own Ma?” She asked sharply, gripping her phone so hard it creaked.

“It is not up to you anymore, you are nowhere near where I can keep an eye on you. You are neck deep in her territory. I can’t even locate you.”

“Again, I can take care of my own. If you don’t trust me enough to take care of myself when I’m near Angela then why am I even your Heir?! If you can’t trust me with that, how do you trust me with your entire lifework? That of our blood? Hmm?” She was fuming, the last weeks creeping up to her, all the words not said, all the energy unspent. All the rage and the sadness were so intense she didn’t know if she wanted to scream or cry.

“I trust you _Habibti._ It’s her I don’t. We have an understanding, but if you betray her I can’t protect you _Ruwhi_. My powers only go so far. Just don’t anger her again, I promise to try and end this arrangement soon.” Fareeha was panting, covering her tired eyes with the palm of her hand as she bended to rest her elbows on her knees.

“I want to come home Ma.” She was fighting back tears, she remembered one time she had to go abroad alone.  
She was sent to Egypt to train in its army, she was about eighteen. It was the year her mother got shot, when she got the message she thought Ana was dead.  
That the weight of the entire Amari Empire was now resting on her then nimble shoulders. So, she trained and refused to cry. She had to be strong and respect her mother’s memory by becoming better, stronger, smarter.  
When she got the call from her mother saying she had just lost an eye, that she was fine, Fareeha broke down. She sobbed and yelled that she wanted to come back, but her mother made her stay and complete her training. It was worth it.

“I want you back too _Habibti,_ stay strong Fareeha.” Her mother ended the call. Fareeha sat another moment before glancing up to see Angela looking at her from across the room. Her posture was firm and menacing, but her azure gaze was soft. It made Fareeha furious.

“How long have you been standing there?” Her voice was flat, empty of all emotion including her rage. Angela looked shocked, she watched Fareeha carefully.

“Long enough.” She said, Fareeha got up and tossed the towel on her shoulder.

“Enjoy your workout Mercy.” Fareeha commented as she made for the stairs.

“I didn’t say you can leave.” Angela put an arm around her middle as she passed.

“What? I have to ask to be excused now?” Fareeha shot Angela a cold chocolate glare, meeting a soft sky blue one.

“Sit.” The order was clear, Fareeha was too riled up to listen.

“I prefer standing, thanks.” She tried walking out again.

“I wasn’t asking.” Angela sneered and caught her arm in a painful pinch.

“Let go of me.” Fareeha didn’t look at her boss. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“You dare threaten me?” There was amusement in her voice.

“Let. Go.” She was growing restless.

“No.” Angela pulled hard at her arm making her turn.

“What?” Fareeha was staring right into her boss’ eyes.

“After you get cleaned up come to the office.” Angela said simply and pressed something into her hand.

“Yes Mercy.” Fareeha huffed and ran up the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6

She didn’t wear a suit, she decided if Angela called on her on her day off she won’t dress for the job. She wore tailored pants and a light blue button-down and headed up to Angela’s home office.  
It was smaller than the study she encountered her in earlier today, it’s cream colored walls were adorned with artwork and a single window. It illuminated the room in dim twilight colors, the glass desk shinning in soft pinks and blues.  
There were two lounge chairs next to a small coffee table on which crystal bottles of liquor and a few tumble glasses sat.

“Angela?” Fareeha asked as she walked in, it seems she had arrived before her boss. She took the liberty to walk around the office, although she had been here many times during the few weeks she had never gotten the chance to look at the art up close.  
One painting depicted a sort of battlefield with a man riding a silvery white horse in its middle, holding what seemed like arrows of golden light.

“‘And when he opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, Come and see. And I looked and behold a pale horse; and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.’ Revelations 6 passage 7.” Angela was standing in the doorway. Her eyes were on the painting in front of Fareeha, she was wearing a long brown coat that covered her slim body to just above the knees.

“I didn’t take you for the religious type Angela.” She commented, Angela did not respond. “It’s ‘Death on the Pale Horse’, correct?” Angela nodded.  
“I’m not much for art, but mother thought it best for me to familiarize myself with Neoclassical artists. West had most intrigued me, so much death in his works. So much sadness.” Fareeha bit the inside of her cheek, she hated to admit she was nervous.

“Please, sit down Fareeha.” Her name on the Angel of Death’s lips was cold and sharp, it made her swallow hard through a tight throat. She made for the lounge chair near her as Angela poured two glasses of an amber colored liquor.  
“Can you guess why I asked you to be here?” Fareeha excepted the glass extended to her, though she did not sip from it as Angela did.

“Not a clue.” She admitted and worked her jaw looking for something more to say.

“I had an extensive conversation with Ana this evening.” Fareeha suppressed a growl “It was most enlightening.” Angela walked in front of her, though her back was turned so she was facing another painting.  
Angela drank the remains of her liquor in a single neat sip, she bit out a curse and reached into the coat’s pocket. She drew out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up dragging at it deeply, her first in nearly three weeks. She knew she’d brake her promise eventually.

“What was that conversation about? If I may ask.” Angela let the smoke out of her lungs in a rush of laughter at Fareeha’s question.  
She turned to look at her, eyes scanning her build and posture. A perfect specimen of a human she thought, she had to admit the Amari Heir was a beautiful woman.

“I think you can guess.” She took another drag relishing the feeling, she hated having been addicted to these things. But one had to put on a show, especially if she wanted the underworld to take her seriously in the beginning.

“About me then.” Fareeha said flatly, a hint of pride and caution.

“You would be correct. She was inquiring about the length of your… position.” Angela stepped to the glass desk and took the small metal ashtray that sat upon it. She flicked her cigarette and let the debris fall in.

“Did she now?” Angela noticed a muscle twitch in Fareeha’s cheek, it was something she saw often these days.

“You are upset she did.” It was a statement, and by the look on Fareeha’s face a true one. Angela chuckled as she took another long drag, she put the cigarette out on the ashtray and put it near the crystal bottles on the coffee table.

“What makes you say that?” Fareeha insisted and held the glass in her hand tightly. Angela tapped the side of her face with her hand.

“I don’t know if you are aware of you muscle twitches, that one it quite visible.” Angela poured herself another serving of whiskey. “Do you want to quit?” She asked simply, catching Fareeha off guard.

“What?” The look on Fareeha’s face was one of complete shock.

“Do you. Want to quit?” Angela asked again now downing her drink on one swig. Fareeha looked stunned, at loss of words.  
“Did I mumble Amari? I know that English isn’t your first language, it isn’t mine either. But I’m sure I’m clear enough. Is your position under my rule too much for you? Do you wish for your mother’s deal with me to end?” Fareeha steeled her face though her breath was still uneven.

“No. I respect my mother’s deals with you.” She replied, her tone even and dry. Angela smirked crookedly.

“Good.” She reached inside her coat again pulling out a brown envelope and handing it to Fareeha, she took it and looked at it a moment.  
Fareeha sat her untouched drink down on the coffee table and opened the envelope, Angela was eyeing her carefully over the rim of her glass.  
Fareeha looked at the contents, several photographs of a middle-aged man in common white-collar clothes. A contract of employment, bank documents and an affidavit to Angela.

“Rogue or annoyances?” She asked, placing all the files back in.

“Neither, he’s an old friend of mine. You are going to assassinate a rival of his.” She handed her another small piece of paper. “All of the things are arranged, we just needed a sniper.” Fareeha went over the instructions on the paper Angela handed to her.

“Not my mother’s weapon I assume.” Angela shook her head.

“Old military, untraceable. Everything will be set up for you, if anything goes wrong you’ll be on your own.” Angela finished her drink and put the glass down. She approached Fareeha slowly.

“It will be done.” Fareeha stated, her voice confident and strong.

“This is the last test Amari, if you pass this. No more guard duty.” Angela looked straight into Fareeha’s eyes, measuring her look and intentions.

“You won’t be disappointed, I assure you Angela.”

“Mercy.” She corrected her “As of now you are on job, until the assignment is finished. Good luck Azrael.” Fareeha nodded once.

“Good night Mercy.” She got out of the room, leaving her drink untouched and her boss wondering of her loyalty. Angela sighed and sat on the lounge chair Fareeha had, it was still warm from her presence. She looked at the abandoned glass of whiskey and finally snatched it off the table and drank it, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The air smelled of smoke and whiskey, she held her breath for as long as she could until her lungs screamed from the pain and she felt the dizziness fog her mind. She let it out slowly, her mind was racing with thoughts.  
She got up reluctantly and walked briskly to her room. Once there she closed the door and locked it, old habits die hard. Her head hurt along with her back and legs, it was normal after a long operation. It had been long since she had her hands and head handle an O.R, but she felt at home in her clinic. She had personally treated the first of Ana’s men to need anything more serious than stiches. A bullet to the chest, it missed his heart by a few inches but was imbedded deeply. It was far less dangerous than other operations she had performed in her youth, she had encountered many life-threatening injuries in both lines of work.

“ _Um Gottes Willen Angela, hol es zusammen._ ” She mumbled to herself leaning her head back on the closed door. She pushed herself off towards the bathroom, her feet dragged through the worn cream-colored carpet. She looked at her reflection in the mirror over the black marble sink, her features hadn’t changed much in the last few years. Even under immense pressure her complexion stayed line free, a feat she had to thank her late mother for. She splashed her face with cold water before wandering to her massive canopy bed, the calming green colors of her sheets and walls did nothing to dispel her stress.  
She sat down with a soft grunt and pulled her stilettoes off, she rubbed her feet and rolled her shoulders to try and relax. A knock on her door made her clench her jaw and shut her eyes, she took a moment to breath before she walked over to unlock and open it.

“This better be impo- Fareeha?” She was amazed to see the Amari Heir at her door.

“May I come in Mercy?” Fareeha asked and looked at Angela.

“What is this about?” She held the door tightly and didn’t move.

“I need to speak with you where I know no one would be listening.” Angela blinked and opened the door fully letting Fareeha in. She was glad she only taken her shoes off at this point, though the Egyptian woman now overtook her by at least four inches.

“I’m listening.” She said impatiently and crossed her hands over her chest.

“This target of mine is one of ours?” Fareeha’s gaze was professional and calculated.

“You’ll need to clarify.” Angela wasn’t sure what she meant, if the man was Amari or Ziegler.

“Is he specifically under you or is he freelancing.” Fareeha’s face showed no emotion at her words. Angela smiled viciously at the remark, she had knowingly called herself one of her own.

“I’ll tell you more about him then.”


	7. Chapter 7

It was nearly sundown, if she couldn’t get the shot in before the sun came down the window will close. This was her last chance, the deadline. Friday night, Fareeha would rather have been anywhere else.

“Come on, I know you’re at home pal. Just peek around the corridor, past the kitchen and into the lounge. You know you want to.” Fareeha had her sniper rifle resting comfortably in the socket of her shoulder, both eyes open and muscles relaxed. Just like her mother taught her. Finally, the middle-aged man walked into her sights holding his phone up to his ear.  
“Just finish the call buddy, you have other engagements tonight.” She pulled the trigger until she had it on edge, just one twitch of her finger and the rifle would shoot. The man stood a moment more with his phone, he huffed and shoved the device into his pocket. Fareeha took a steady breath in and let it out as she let the bullet fly. The crack of the rifle bounced around her as it hit the mark, the man fell back and out of her line of sight. She waited a heartbeat before backing away from the resting rifle, she was instructed to leave it wherever she shot from. She took off her rubber gloves and raincoat, she’ll dump them in the river on her way back to the apartment complex that they were staying at. She took her battered leather jacket from near the fire escape pulling it on in one swift motion, she had enough time to get back to the complex before the body was found.  
Running down the black metal stairs she sent a quick text to her mother letting her know that this weekend she won’t be able to help out in the warehouse. She pocketed the cell and grabbed the helmet off the seat of her BMW G310GS popping it on as she swung her leg over it. The engine roared beneath her as she raced away from the apartment building in the outskirts of downtown, she wove in and out of traffic until she reached the river. She stopped on the old bridge, she took a look on the dozens of locks decorating the small metal decorations on the stone. A poor replacement for the famous lover’s bridge. She let out a huff of breath before dumping her used raincoat and gloves into the river below, making sure to watch it sink until they weren’t visible anymore.

“How did the job go Pharah?” She was walking into the main suit when she was greeted by one of the bodyguards, they didn’t use her Archangel name so she decided to make them call her by her code name.

“Amazing J, the boss around?” She asked as she shrugged off her jacket swinging it over her shoulder.

“I think she’s up in the balcony. Have a good weekend Pharah.” He cheered before heading to the elevator.

“You too J, my regards to the wife.” She said with a smile and waved the guard off, she started for her room on the second floor of the penthouse. Her eyes caught a single flame from a room, baffled she walked into it surprised to find Angela in it. She had her hand over her eyes and was mumbling something incoherently, Fareeha watched her from the doorway.

“ _Gut Shabbos, Meine Geliebten._ ” Angela looked at a photograph resting in front of her.

“Jewish then, the last name should have given it away.” Angela looked back startled by the sudden voice, her body moved to block the candle and photo instinctively.

“What are you doing here?” She hissed at her through clenched teeth, usually the Egyptian was well out and about her own business by this time at a Friday night.

“Just came by to tell you that the mission is complete.” Fareeha was enjoying the panicked look on her boss’ face.

“Good, now get out.” Angela spat and walked to close the door between them, she was met with Fareeha’s boot in the way.

“Hold on for just a second there, Mercy. This was my last test, the final countdown. I’m awaiting my grand prize.” She said sarcastically, Angela’s face was turning crimson with both anger and embarrassment.

“Well it won’t be given now, good night Fareeha.” With that the door was slammed in her face, Fareeha stood speechless for a moment before racing down the hall. Angela had the heels of her hands pressed hard onto her eyes, counting to ten internally before looking back at the single candle standing on her dresser. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, she moved to the service balcony until the cool night breeze caressed her heated cheeks. She lit a cigarette and dragged at it hard, watching the orange burn in the dark evening light.  
“Stop worrying you baby.” She spat at herself, she grinded her teeth together and rubbed at her temples. Most of her Archangels knew of her heritage, but Fareeha was an exception. She will always be. She knew that now after her mission she could trust the Amari Heir, but her stomach still knotted whenever they were alone in a room. She wasn’t afraid, or so she told herself. She noticed how her guard’s muscles bulged whenever she held a gun in her hand, she saw her work with a simple hunting knife.   
That alone could scare anyone away, but she had seen worse. More cruelty. By her hand or other’s. So, what about her was so different? She nearly went mad thinking about it. She decided to retire to her room, she flicked the half-burnt cigarette over the metal railing and locked the door behind her when she left. Her bare feet dragged across the worn carpet that lined the hall, she loved the feel of the fabric.

“Took you long enough.” She stifled a scream as she looked at the figure sitting on her bed.

“What makes you think you can be here?” Angela roared at Fareeha who only chuckled at her anger.

“You really want to know?” She asked and got up, the bed creaked from the weight leaving it. Fareeha turned her back to Angela and pulled her shirt off in one swift motion. Angela gasped as she caught the intricate angel wing design that decorated the muscled back of the Amari Heir, she reached to touch the mocha skin. The tattoo was beautiful, simple black lines and white accents on each delicate feather.

“Marvelous.” She breathed as she let her hands flatter over Fareeha’s skin, she felt her shiver under her touch.

“Your hands are cold.” Fareeha stated before pulling her shirt back on, it suddenly occurred to Angela that Fareeha wasn’t wearing anything under her shirt. A weird choice, but she couldn’t dictate what she wore off duty. She took a few steps back cleared her throat and considered her next words.

“What do you want?” She finally asked, Fareeha turned to her with her hands on her hips.

“I want my reward.” Fareeha answered simply.

“You want off guard duty.” Angela replied and went to her bathroom door not expecting Fareeha to follow.

“Yes, you said this was my last test. Now you see I am loyal, it’s even inked into my skin.” She boasted with a grin. Angela shot her a disapproving glare from over her shoulder.

“That tattoo was your choice. I, as a matter of fact, don’t agree with tattoo’s.” Fareeha raised her brow in question “Makes you easier to identify.” Angela walked over to the walk-in shower turning on the hot water to let it run before she got in. Fareeha moved uncomfortably in place, a soft crimson climbing up her neck.

“I’ll let you have your privacy.” She said before moving to exit.

“Embarrassed Amari?” Angela asked and started popping the buttons of her white blouse. Fareeha swallowed hard, making a conscious effort not to look at her boss’ chest as she peeled the blouse away from her shoulders.

“Not at all, just thought you would like to shower on your own.” Fareeha wanted to kick herself, she should take her foot out of her mouth before talking. But seeing Angela undress was making her feel things she didn’t want to feel. She just needed to look at her face and ignore anything else, even the pulsing in her lower stomach.

“Oh, contraire. I usually like it better when someone else is with me. But alas, my line of work in far too complicated for that.” Angela made a show of taking off her pants and undergarment, she wanted to see Fareeha squirm. “Is there a problem Fareeha?” She inquired as she stepped closer to the taller woman.

“Not at all Angela, though I’d advise you to shower quickly. As not to waste all the hot water on the empty attempt to seduce me.” Angela laughed.

“Who says I’m seducing you _Liebling_?” She asked and smiled up at Fareeha. “Just having a conversation.” Fareeha looked at her stoically, she walked to the shower.  
“You’re dismissed.”

“Good night Angela.

“Good night Fareeha.”

As the Egyptian walked briskly out of her dorm Angela showered quickly. Trying to vanish the knots in her stomach she decided to go out herself. After drying herself with care she strolled into her walk-in closet and chose a short black dress and a soft white faux-fur coat. This should do no matter where she ended up tonight, she needed to get this awkward encounter off of her mind. For that she needed booze and music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed post, it's been erratic this past few weeks with tougher times ahead. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

The music was way too loud for her taste, but as Fareeha took a long sip of her lager she thought about all the noises that would otherwise annoy her. She looked over the bar at her old crew, they were all laughing and drinking and rowing. Her Jackals, the top men in her mother’s gang. The elite of them all, they were as tight as they would come. But now, under Angela’s thumb, she didn’t get to see them as often as before. But decided to go out on a whim last second, so now they sat at this dance-bar.

“So Pharah, how is it working for Ziegler?” The stocky man sitting beside her questioned, she smiled at him viciously. She was glad they didn’t have to shout to communicate despite the loud music

“Well Asif, it could be worse.” She finished off her beer and waved the bartender to fill her glass yet again, she was determined to drink enough to forget her earlier run in with Angela. No matter how hard she tried, the image of her naked boss persisted in her mind.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked and leaned his back against the bar, his eyes scanning the dance floor. Fareeha knew exactly what he was looking for, she understood completely.

“She can do anything she wants with me and I couldn’t say a word, or Ana would have me flogged.” She joked with a chuckle, Asif smirked for a second and sipped his drink.

“What do you think she has planned for you?” His black eyes were now staring directly into hers. She sighed and rubbed a hand down her face.

“I have no fucking clue Asif, it’s driving me mad. At first, I’m a low-grade bodyguard, next I’m an errand-boy and now a fucking assassin. She has me running around like an obedient puppy trying to please its master. And now I miss Anubis.” She fisted her hair in her hands as she leaned over the bar on her elbows. Asif laughed heartedly and patted her back.

“He’s doing fine _Sadiqa,_ I’m taking good care of him over at Ana’s. He and Ra run around all day, it’s adorable.” He said and smiled at her, he then adopted his serious gaze and turned back to the dance floor.

“I appreciate you taking care of him Asif, you’re a good friend.” She said and nodded to the bartender as he pushed another pint her way. Asif punched her shoulder and laughed again.

“Don’t mention it, and I’m sure all the Jackals would have jumped at the opportunity. They never stop bringing him treats and playing around with the both of them. They’re mental about your dogs.” He set his empty glass on the counter beside him and looked over the crowed again.

“You can go on and hunt pal, I’m gonna stay right here with the drinks. Maybe I’ll join later.” She said and sipped the foam at the top of her glass. Asif nodded at her and slithered into the withering crowed, smoothly falling into the music’s rhythm and pressing up against an attractive brunet. Fareeha looked over at the rest of her Jackals, all of them were piss poor drunk and trying their luck with the willing gals dancing in their too-tight-too-short clothes.  
She finished her fourth beer and feeling her head starting to fuzz joined the dancing, immediately getting grabbed by a tall well-built man. She danced along until he got too groping, she fixed him a stare and he danced his way to the other side of the dancefloor. She smiled and worked her way towards a lone blonde dancing in the edge of a much larger group.

“You look lost.” She said as she began dancing beside her, her body moving to the sound of the bass. The blonde looked up at her and Fareeha could see she had one drink too much.

“Just wanted a breath, it’s way too crowded in here.” The blonde replied, her green eyes gleaming as she took Fareeha’s frame. Fareeha smiled slyly, she knew it was a good idea to wear a tight singlet instead of her usual loose fitting low cut shirts.

“I agree, this used to be a low-key place. What’s your name?” Fareeha inquired.

“Michelle.” The blonde said and looped a strand of her long hair around her finger.

“Well, Michelle. What do you say we go somewhere quieter? I know a great jazz club just a block away.” She said and the blonde smile shyly, crimson spreading on her mostly exposed chest and up her slender neck. Fareeha raised an eyebrow suggestively and smiled.

“Would you mind if my friend tags along, I’d hate to have too much fun without her.” _Perfect,_ Fareeha thought.

“Not at all, I’d hate for you to leave her here alone. Who knows what creeps might try and take her home.” Fareeha whispered into the blonde’s ear making her shiver.

“It’ll just be a second.” She said and Fareeha smiled at her, she shot a quick text to Asif letting him know she had taken off and chuckled at his reply of a single eggplant. She stuffed her phone into the back pocket of her skinny jeans as she saw the blonde approaching with her friend.  
“This is Caitlyn.” Fareeha smiled at the brunette with the slight build who shyly bit her lower lip.

“Hello Caitlyn, we’re gonna head to a lounge not far from here.” Fareeha suggested and the girls followed her.

“What’s with the tattoo?” They were half way out the club with Fareeha holding the door open for the other two. She chuckled at the question, she was so used to people who would rather talk about literally anything else other than her tattoo.

“It’s a family thing, we originate from Egypt.” Fareeha answered, looking into the brunette’s gleaming brown eyes. She seemed enchanted by every word, Fareeha winked at her which resulted in the best response she hoped for. Caitlyn dropped her gaze and smiled at the concrete ground. The short walk to the jazz lounge was uneventful, the girls were talkative and Fareeha was happy to answer their questions. Her usual answers pouring out her lips out of instinct.

“Yes, I do work out because of the job.” Or “No, it’s not military. Though I did serve in Egypt.” And “Wish I could tell you, but that’s classified.” That pulled a number on everyone, men and women alike.

“That’s a fancy place here. I feel like I’m underdressed.” Michelle said and pulled her dress further down her thighs as her friend brushed her jeans clean of imaginary dirt.

“It’s ok, I know the owner.” She winked at them and led them to the entrance.

“Evening Amari.” The bouncer said as soon as Fareeha approached, his British accent surprising both the women behind her.

“How are you Sean?” She asked the slim yet buff young man, his dark skin nearly blending with his black attire.

“Took the late shift so I could spend the day with Charlotte, she the one Amari. I’m tellin you.” He smiled revealing a line of flawless white teeth, they gleamed in contrast to his skin and the dark background of the jazz club.

“I believe you mate, who’s preforming tonight?” She asked as he pulled the door open for her and the girls.

“That French woman, the one your mother looks all funny at.” Sean added and waved at the two women as they followed Fareeha inside. The music was getting stronger as they walked further, the instruments playing softly as a hoarse voice muttered sweet nothings to the rhythm. Fareeha recognized the voice even before she laid eyes on the petit singer in her tight black dress.

“Give another round of applause to Amélie.” The black haired singer gave a gorgeous smile and blew a kiss at the clapping audience, the club was crowded but not packed. Fareeha gave a soft clap as the singer turned to her and smiled widely, she tipped her head in respect of the Amari Heir and got back to singing softly to the music.

“Go sit over there, I’ll be right with you.” Fareeha said with a sly smile and walked quickly to the back of the club. The two security men at the office door nodded at her as she passed them. She wanted to change out of the club clothes, she needed to look good here. It was one of her mother’s more high-end businesses, all black tie and ball gowns.  
She opted for tailored black slacks and a white button-down that had a few buttons missing for the last time she brought anyone with her. The memory made her smile and shiver with anticipation.  
As she walked to the booth that was always reserved for any of the Amari family she noticed the girls already had drinks in front of them, good. She signaled the bartender to get her a drink and sat between the two women.

“Having fun?” She asked and got nervous giggles and smiles from the both of them.

“The music is fantastic! How do you know the place?” Fareeha followed the blonde’s gaze, Michelle was it?

“My family owns it.” She said with a smile as both of the women turned to her wide eyed. She was glad to have one of the servers place a long pour of fine whiskey directly in front of her, she took a sip for dramatic affect.

“Anything else Miss Amari?” The waiter asked and smiled anxiously.

“Not at the moment, I’ll wave you over if I need you.” She regarded the waiter with a firm face, he ducked away and scurried back to other patrons in the lounge. Fareeha leaned back in her sit and extended her arms on the back of the sofa they were on. Both of the girls were now fawning over her and she let it happen, she didn’t listen to anything they said. Just nodded every now and then and took careful sips of her drink.

“Thank you very much Amélie, what a pleasure to have you here again.” The music took over at a slow pace as the French beauty left the stage and then the lounge. As Fareeha followed her with her gaze her eyes caught an odd shape, a flash of white she had to glance back at.

“No…” She mumbled breathlessly “This can’t be.” She nearly choked on her hasty sip as a familiar azure stare rested on her. It felt like a punch in the gut, she would know. She gritted her teeth and locked her jaw, a heavy breath leaving her nostrils with a rushing sound.

“Everything alright?” One of the girls asked, she spat a stoic yes and held the cold steel gaze of the woman across the room. The other woman smiled wickedly and huffed a chocked laugh, she peeled off a white coat revealing a tight black dress that shimmered in the dim yellow glow of the lounge.

“Excuse me a moment.” She grumbled and got up. The woman across the room saw her approach and drifted to the shadows behind her, backing into one of the many hidden enclaves.

“Nice place you run here.” A pair of azure eyes held her chocolate ones steadily.

“Shut up.” Fareeha didn’t care a single bit about her choice of words. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She barked at the woman.

“Now is that anyway to speak to your boss?” Fareeha was breathing hard through her nose.

“Right now, you are not my boss, Angela.” She bit out “You’re in my territory now.” She smiled at the shiver that went through Angela.

“A patron in your establishment then.” Angela retorted which made Fareeha’s smile disappear.

“Get out.” She hissed at Angela who didn’t move a muscle.

“No.” She replied simply and pushed past the tall Egyptian.

“I’m sorry, was I not clear?” Fareeha asked as she caught Angela’s hand in a painful grip. “Get out of this establishment. You are not welcome here.” Fareeha hissed through clenched teeth.

“Oh, but what would your mother say?” Angela suggested and Fareeha let her hand go with a string of curses. Angela rubbed at her wrist absentmindedly and smirked, Fareeha looked her dead in the eyes and drew her back to the shadows with a powerful tug. Angela’s breath left her in a rush as she was slammed back first into the wall behind her.

“Do not think I am my mother’s obedient child. The things I am capable of are far beyond her imagination and would surprise you as well.” Fareeha whispered hoarsely into Angela’s ear, Fareeha’s hand closed around the slender neck of her boss.

“You are going to regret this Amari.” Angela hissed, she was fuming and her face showed it. Nostrils flaring and a raging crimson all over her cheeks and neck, Fareeha chuckled and let go abruptly.

“I hope you enjoy your visit to our humble lounge, you just missed a great performance. Fare evening to you, Mercy.” Fareeha gave an exaggerated bow that gave Angela a clear view down her partially opened shirt. Fareeha righted herself and laughed at Angela’s flustered state. As the tall Egyptian turned to walk back to the two women waiting for her, Angela was thinking of clever ways to punish her for her behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly I will be away for a couple of weeks so it will take a little longer than usual to upload hence the early episode, hope it makes up for my absence. Enjoy :)


	9. Chapter 9

Fareeha had a bad feeling while driving back to the compound, where the Angel of Death was staying this week. After a long night of drinking she had ended up in the two-room apartment of one of the girls, though she couldn’t remember any of them, couldn’t utter their names with a gun held to her head.  
A buzz in the back pocket of the pants she changed into in the club had her reaching for it as she waited for a light to turn green, even late at night she minded the traffic. This district was known for traffic cameras, the last thing she needed was to give cops a good reason to dig into her business, even if she ditched the plate and the bike, which she did not intend on doing.  
The text was from an unknown number though, from what she suspected, it was a burner anyway. With a quick glance at the intersection she pocketed the phone and decided to stop after crossing it, as the light changed she shot to the nearest 24/7 parking lot at which point she took off her helmet and shook her hair free, the soft jingle of the gold clips attached to her hair the only sound apart from the dying echo of her motorcycle engine.  
‘Office.’ Fareeha huffed at the single word displayed on the screen of her cellphone, the Angel wanted a late-night visit, did she? Checking the time, she bit out a curse, she had only two hours of sleep if she managed to get to the compound in twenty minutes and wrap-up whatever the discussion with Angela was in another ten. Tomorrow she had to attend her Mother’s exhausting breakfasts, she insisted on them when she first started working for Angela. She’ll just grab some very strong coffee on her way, maybe one of those disgusting energy drinks her Jackals loved so much.  
She breathed deeply and excepted the fact that she’ll have to replace the plates and repaint her BMW again, she did her best not to smash her phone into the ground and put her helmet back on, adjusting her light wind coat so it would cover most of her plate-number as possible. She’ll have one of the men hack into the police data base and see if they managed to pick it up or not, she’ll replace it anyway.  
Racing through all the lights she managed to reach the compound in fifteen minutes, as she parked the bike in the adjacent garage she tossed the helmet near her tool box and gloves.

“Nearly sunrise, I imagine you’ve had a busy night.” Angela’s tone was empty of emotion as Fareeha stepped into the office, she smirked as she remembered the pitched screaming of the girl she spent the majority of her night with. Angela was seating at her desk, shuffling papers around while spinning a fountain pen around her fingers with her other hand.

“Fairly, though most of my nights are.” She commented and threw her windbreaker on one of the many chairs in the room. The sound of the impact had Angela looking up with a frown.

“Hang it properly, Azrael.” Angela spat, her accent as thick as blood. Fareeha caught a glimmer of a nearly empty bottle of liquor on the table as she grabbed her coat and hung it, displeased with her own compliance. But she didn’t want to drag this conversation more than it had to be, she was aching for a smoke and a shower before bed.

“Why did you call for me at such a late hour?” Angela didn’t answer, she coked and eyebrow at Fareeha who sighed in frustration “Mercy…” She muttered and Angela smirked placing a cap on the end of her pen.

“Tomorrow morning, well actually three hours from now, we are leaving for the airport.” Fareeha froze in place, her brain struggling in comprehending the information delivered to it. Angela wasn’t looking at her any more, she was stacking her papers and smacking them gently against her desk to align them.  
“We are going to Dublin to pay a visit to an old acquaintance of mine. A medical researcher of sorts.”  
Fareeha rubbed her eyes in a faint attempt at trying to wake her senses up.

“May I ask why?” She huffed, Angela placed her papers in a brown paper folder and placed them within her desk.

“You may, but I will not give you specific details until we reach Ireland.” Angela noted and got up from her desk chair. Fareeha was standing partly dazed in her way. She looked up at the muscular Egyptian towering over her.  
“You are excused.” She said coldly “I suggest you pack your bags, note that it is quite cold there this time of year.” Angela continued and saw Fareeha shift her tired gaze to her face.  
The twisted feeling in her gut bubbled up again, tying knots in her belly. It made her uncomfortable.

“Yes Mercy.” Fareeha replied simply, though she did not make a move to leave the room. Her hands were fisted at her sides and were oddly still, as if she held them hard in place as to not do something she’ll regret.

“Well?” Angela hummed, their bodies were mere inches apart now as she walked her way over to the towering figure of Fareeha. She made note of the twitching muscle on her cheek, smirking as she got the sense she was slowly braking the Amari Heir.

“Anything else?” Fareeha asked stoically, her deep chocolate gaze not faltering from Angela’s eyes, as if she was searching for something. Angela fought the urge to snap at her, clearly, she had no reason to. But something about the empty words irked her, made her angry at her new Amari acquisition.

“For now.” She said, azure eyes boring hard into brown ones. Fareeha inhaled heavily and left the room in quick rigid steps.  
Angela watched as her figure disappeared down the hall and up the stairs to where Fareeha’s room was located. She sighed and fell into one of the chairs dotting the office, her hands going to her aching temples. She breathed a few times before trying to shake her alcohol clouded mind in order to coalesce coherent thoughts.  
She was surprised she got through the conversation with Fareeha without slurring her words or revealing more than she intended. This trip to Ireland was important for the strength of her Empire. She didn’t want her drunken haze to affect the so called “social call” in a bad way, the less Fareeha knew the better.  
After a few more minutes Angela strolled into her own quarters and quickly got her suitcase ready with a week’s worth of outfits. She wasn’t sure how long it would take to get what she needed, but she could always buy more clothes.  
She leaned her hands on the king-sized bed and let her head hang loosely from her shoulders, her mind racing with incoherent thoughts and halves of plans for her clinics and pharmacies. The noise inside her scull made her crazy, everything mixing together and making a deafening cacophony of sounds that had her grabbing at her hair and breathing heavy.  
Her eyes darted around her room, trying to find something mundane to focus her mind on.  
Damn her taste of art, all of the pieces in her room were thought provoking, everything too colorful and messy. She took ragged breaths in an attempt to clear her mind, the air tearing in and out of her throat. She tried to hold her breath but her chest constricted with pain all too early and had her even more frustrated. She took a deep breath and let out a pained and exhausted shout, the sudden sound drowned her thoughts in the desperate feel of her sore throat and aching lungs. She couldn’t tell how long she was yelling, her eyes stung and her mouth hurt from the stretching, her face felt warm and was probably a very deep crimson.

“Are you done?” The Egyptian accent was no surprise, she must have woken the whole damned house up. She was breathing heavy and leaning heavily against the bed.

“Go away.” She said hoarsely, she didn’t even care how desperate and weak she sounded. When the silence stretched she looked back at the large figure of Fareeha in her doorway.  
“What do you want?” She asked, only to clear her throat and ask again as all that came out of her was an unrecognizable croak.

“There are other ways to deal with whatever made you scream as if someone was skinning you alive.” Fareeha noted with her arms tightly crossed over her chest. She looked so serious like that, ‘all business no bullshit’ like. Her face was stoic but her stance was worried, Angela huffed a laugh and righted herself, running her fingers through her hair to tame the blonde waves.

“You’re some sort of expert then? Sorry I didn’t realize you were a Psychology major. So, Doctor, what would you advise?” She asked mockingly, crossing her ankles and hands. Fareeha looked her straight in the eyes, not moving a muscle.

“I watched too many good men die because they couldn’t get their minds together for this to be funny.” She said in a hushed tone, she looked as if she were remembering a sad time. Angela was surprised by the sudden confession, but she didn’t show it.  She just stared at the tall woman and waited for something to happen. The silence went on and on, they stared each other down, like a twisted game of chicken.

“I suggest you get the bags downstairs Azrael; the car will come around shortly.” Angela finally mumbled and closed the suitcase and let it drop in front of Fareeha. She didn’t look back at her as she left the room loudly.  
What a mess she had made, stupid of her to do such things. Showing weakness in a house full of people, she will make sure it won’t happen again.

 

 

 

Fareeha was shaking her head furiously on her way outside with the bags. The memories flooded back in a painful stream of pictures sounds and smells. She bit the inside of her cheek until the pain scattered the thoughts and the bitter metallic taste of her blood drowned the sensory affect of her flashback. She spit her blood out on the pavement and thanked whatever god that the driver was here.

“Hey Azrael, the boss coming down soon?” The young man driving the car was one of many faces Fareeha was starting to recognize. He was British in origin as he told her, came to the states around age fifteen. He has blazing red hair and a freckled nose and cheeks that popped over paper white skin, his eyes a gem like green that glistened.

“I think so, she was gathering her last things, I’ll wait for her out here.” Fareeha said after the man came around to open the trunk of the car, he took out a pack of cheap cigarettes as she was loading the heavy suitcases into the large space. He gestured the box in her direction as an offer as he held his own between his lips. She declined with a slight smile and took out her own pack from the inside of her suit jacket, the man lit hers after he produced a small lighter from his back pocket. She took a deep drag and exhaled on a sigh.

“Long day?” The man asked after lighting his cigarette and putting everything back in place. She took another drag with a chuckle.

“Try a long week.” She commented and looked at the safehouse “Maybe even month.” She mumbled and the man laughed.

“Not easy leaving your old gang to come to the Angel, huh?” He inhaled hard on his cigarette and the glowing tip illuminated his young face. If she had to guess, she wouldn’t give him a day oven twenty.

“Well, I didn’t have a choice.” She took another drag and looked at the quite driveway “How did you get caught up with her, if I may ask?” She flicked ash off the end with a flick of a thumb. The man got serious for a moment.

“How most of the low jobs get caught.” He lifted the edge of his polo shirt to reveal a nasty jagged scar that went from below his waistline to the middle of his ribcage. “Nasty thing ain’t it?” Fareeha examined the wound with a cold calculation, not the worst she’s ever seen. “Electric saw, ten inches. Those things go wicked fast the bustards, popped right off and caught me straight here.” He indicated with his lit cigarette and laughed.  
“Thought I was a goner, fellas that worked with me were so shocked they nearly passed out those bloody pansies. I went out a few seconds after from blood loss and woke up in one of the Angel’s clinics. ‘Course I had no money to my name, and sure as hell my gaffer went and poofed on me. And here walks in a gorgeous doctor and says I can pay it all off in a few years. I didn’t know better, thought I’d mop floors in some clinic for a few bucks and be done in a year or two. Boy was I wrong, fast forward two years.” He took a long drag and exhaled on a laugh, dropping his shirt back into place and snuffing his cigarette on the heal of his shoe.

“How much time you got left?” Fareeha asked, looking down on the black combat boots that she opted for instead of dress shoes. The man shrugged and sighed, running a shaking hand through his red hair.

“Heaven knows, but you know… It ain’t bad working for her, she’s nice to me. She helped my folks get an apartment just outside of town, took care of my dad’s busted knee and got him work in a clinic of hers. They don’t know any of the bad stuff, thank God, but they glad I found a stable job.” He crossed his arms and leaned on the back of the car. It was wired to hear, such compassion from a woman who is capable of such horrific things.

“I’m... sorry for your troubles, but happy for your wellbeing. I hope you wouldn’t have gotten into this world in the first place, it’s a tough life. Just be sure to make something out of yourself in the end, after your debt is payed off.” She said and with finale drag polished off her cigarette. He nodded at her with a smile and walked to the driver’s seat and settled back in.  
Fareeha inhaled the cold air and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the suburbs in the early morning. She heard the front door of the safe-house open and close and opened her eyes to see Angela walking up to the car, she opened the passenger door and waited for her to climb in before entering herself and closing the door on the fresh morning air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long time it took to update, had a long as heck writer's block. Praying it won't come back, hope you enjoy :)


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